


With you it starts to make sense

by madhatt



Series: Stupid Autobots, silly Decepticons, and things they have in common [4]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abortion, M/M, Mech Preg, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, abortion in the past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 08:09:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5658943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madhatt/pseuds/madhatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“He's not exactly sick, though his condition certainly isn't the... usual norm, so to say,” answered Ratchet finally. The phrasing struck Prowl with unpleasant familiarity. He had heard that before. Ratchet had told him the exact same thing...<br/>“No.” Prowl didn't recognize his own staticky voice.<br/>“Prowl, you're with a sparkling.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	With you it starts to make sense

**Author's Note:**

> Another part of my Prowl/Starscream series. It's probably sometime before [Fly Me to the Moon](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3802342).

1

It was only Prowl's luck that the weakness overcame him in front of the whole Iaconian Council. Not in the safe, empty space of his room, or even in front of his so-called friends, that lately seemed to be getting further and further away. No, the only moment in his recent life that he wished he was alone to suffer in seclusion, he was facing hostile mechs closely inspecting his and Starscream's methods of ruling over Cybertron.

Speaking of Starscream – his still unexpectedly pleasant presence was the only thing preventing Prowl's embarrassed processor from crashing, as he collapsed to the floor, clutching at his chestplates, in vain hope of stopping the excruciating pain that shot right through his spark. It pulsed far too quickly and whirled frantically, like if he had just overworked his body, put it under severe strain and failed to nourish it properly. It was a feeling he knew all too well, only now it was so much worse, and with cold dread he realized he was scared. So scared because of the helplessness it forced him to feel. Venting harshly in front of mechs he looked down upon, who thought him worthless in return, and considered nothing more than a cold and devoid of emotions drone.

Prowl shook his helm, or rather hoped he did, trying to clear his processor. Someone was calling his name, at least he thought so. Was it Starscream? He was almost sure it was. Especially, when the voice grew closer and there were suddenly careful hands caressing his heated plates. Starscream's worried face was so close, through the fog of pain he saw panic in these red optics. So beautiful, but so worried...

They were the last thing he saw before he lost consciousness.

2

In a jarring contrast, there was no worry whatsoever on Ratchet's face, when Prowl on-lined his optics again, the medic's frown the only thing in his line of sight. It either meant the condition he was in he had brought upon himself, and it was a simple malnourishment, or rather he was dying and Ratchet schooled his faceplates into an indifferent scowl, so he wouldn't worry Prowl.

“I'm glad you're awake,” said Ratchet, breaking Prowl out of his thoughts. But despite his words he didn't seem content. Or maybe it was just fault in Prowl's judgement – he wasn't in his right processor just yet.

Not waiting for Prowl to reply, or maybe quite correctly judging he wouldn't get one, Ratchet continued: “You are malnourished, you don't recharge enough and force yourself too much. But I guess I don't need to tell you that.” He looked at Prowl meaningfully.

“No, you don't,” answered Prowl reluctantly.

Ratchet sighed deeply and that was when Prowl noticed it wasn't indifference on Ratchet's faceplates, it was carefully blank expression of someone, who didn't want others to see his distress. Prowl felt a pang of guilt, that he ever doubted the medic, who despite Prowl's recent doings, his unexplainable relationship with Starscream to be exact, never showed him any form of resentment.

“However this time it's not all your fault,” said Ratchet, the worry more and more audible in his voice.

“Prowl's sick?” interrupted Starscream, and wasn't it a proof of Prowl's bad condition that he hadn't noticed the Seeker before he made himself known. Starscream was now waiting for Ratchet's answer. He was nervous, jittery and his sole presence made Prowl's spark whirl with hope for things he didn't want to admit.

“He's not exactly sick, though his condition certainly isn't the... usual norm, so to say,” answered Ratchet finally. The phrasing struck Prowl with unpleasant familiarity. He had heard that before. Ratchet had told him the exact same thing...

“No.” Prowl didn't recognize his own staticky voice.

“Prowl, you're with a sparkling.”

3

These were the words Prowl dreaded to hear the most, as a junior tactician in Prime's army, with new tasks and documents to fill out everyday, more and more duties entrusted to his cunning processor, and war in full swing all around. And yet here they were, pronounced with terrifying clarity by the medic, leaving him without any hope and at the verge of crashing.

“Prowl, have you heard me?” asked Ratchet, concern clear in his voice. Since the beginning of the war despite himself Prowl came to trust the experienced, although still relatively young mech. He was still older than Prowl, but as of yet wasn't very good at maintaining the professional distance, something that would certainly come with time.

“Yes, I'm... I'm quite alright,” answered Prowl finally. He felt dizzy.

Ratchet put a hand on Prowl's shoulder. The young tactician didn't feel much comforted, but he still appreciated the gesture. Still his optics flickered and plating clattered in distress.

When he spoke, his vocalizer was barely spitting out the distorted sounds.

“There's war going on around us. How am I supposed to raise a sparkling? In a universe so savage and cruel and horrible. And do that all... all by myself?”

Prowl knew all too well who was the sparkling's sire. He didn't want to think about the mech. A promise of happiness, companionship and care turned into a morning of indifference, hurt, and finally loneliness. Prowl didn't want to experience it ever again. He didn't also want to have anything to do with the mech. The mere thought made his throat clench and spark whirl dizzyingly. He didn't want to be associated with someone so foolish and deceitful. He couldn't bear the thought of his sparkling one day finding out how hurt he had been by their sire.

But most importantly, and wasn't it a dreadful thought, he didn't want to force anyone to live the life of war and pain, of indifference, cruelty and death.

  
  


4

  
  


Prowl waited for the panic of those days past to hit him once again. He stopped his mechanics from working, struggled to halt his cooling fans and still his trembling doorwings. Any klik now, world would crash around him. Any klik...

“Prowl...” He felt a servo delicately touch his plating and grab his cold fingers. They shook too, something he noticed only as opposed to the other's steady touch.

He looked up and was met with Starscream's worried optics. They were staring at him, as red as always, a surprising safe haven for his stressed out self.

“Are you alright? You look like you're about to crash,” said the Seeker, fidgeting. “Are you going to? Ratchet, is he going to? Shouldn't you be doing something? Isn't it what you're here for?” Starscream's voice was getting louder and judging from Prowl's own experience, the Seeker would soon be screaming at the medic, only making it all worse. Prowl squeezed the fingers still curled around his own. Starscream's focus was back on him.

“Starscream, you're making my processor ache.”

Obviously it didn't matter what Prowl had said, Starscream was just happy to hear him speak. He stopped talking for a moment, only to direct his next words at the tactician once again, this time much quieter. “Are you alright?”

Prowl thought about the question for a couple of kliks. Was he alright? Once again he considered his past experiences and looked for the traces of trauma past in his processor. He braced himself and waited...

Nothing came. He felt calm.

“I'm alright.”

  
  


5

  
  


“I'm...” Not alright.

Prowl was, in all sincerity he could allow himself deep inside his processor, far from it. He needed to crash, but his mechanics stubbornly refused him this luxury of not feeling. His spark was bared for every dire feeling to claw at it and rip it to pieces.

“Do you want to see it? It's visible, circling around your spark, so you can...”

“No.” His voice was full of despair and he hated it.

Ratchet sat on a stool next to Prowl's berth and looked at him with what he so obviously wanted to be a steady stare.

“Prowl. You know I won't judge you, that's not what I'm here for. I... I think I understand your situation. I'll give you the time to think about it, of course, but just know that it's a possibility.” He stopped for a moment, clearly trying to judge Prowl's reaction to his words. Then he continued. “I can terminate it. Technically, it's not even a sparkling yet, it's just energy, that with right circumstances...”

“I know.” Prowl didn't need to hear it anymore. Didn't want to. “You don't have to... Just do it, please.”

Ratchet nodded and smiled reassuringly at Prowl. The young tactician felt calmness shyly touch his spark.

  
  


6

  
  


“I'm not going to raise it alone.” Prowl's voice, even to his own audials, was surprisingly level, as he said that.

The words made Starscream look at the Praxian in open surprise. Then his face lit up with a radiant grin he didn't even try to contain. He quickly glanced at Ratchet, as if he wanted to confirm he had heard right, but then looked back at Prowl with a determined air surrounding him. “Of course. I would never leave you alone with a sparkling.” And then, biting his lip, as if he was about to do something daring, leaned closer and whispered, “It's _ours_.”

Prowl stilled and he could swear for a moment his spark stopped it's whirling, too. The feeling inside his processor, inside his spark, he didn't know how to call it. Surely this strange affection he so unexpectedly felt for the Seeker couldn't be... No. Ages ago, when he had been still foolish and naive, he had believed himself to be capable of feeling _it_. Now he knew better. Yet when it came to Starscream, and how easily he seemed to breach the walls Prowl had so carefully built up around his spark, he wasn't sure.

Dare he call it that one feeling he so dreaded?

Certainly not now. He wasn't ready. Instead he gripped Starscream's servo a little harder and looked at him with what he hoped was... He wasn't sure what he wanted to transmit. But whatever he managed to show on his face, must have been to Starscream's liking, since he smiled even wider and moved closer to Prowl.

Starscream hesitated for a klik, once again looked nervously to Ratchet, who by now had relaxed visibly, and then closed the distance between himself and Prowl, kissing the tactician with passion.

“Prowl, it's...,” tried Starscream to say between the kisses. “I'm so happy.” Another lingering kiss. “I can't believe... So lucky.”

  
  


7

  
  


“It's considered lucky for a Seeker, to be rewarded with a sparkling,” said Starscream when they finally got to Prowl's quarters. He was obviously trying to excuse his earlier happy outburst in the medibay.

“Is it?” He looked at Starscream skeptically, but there was no real bite to it, he did it out of habit and the Seeker seemed to realize that.

Still he asked, “Don't you think so, too?”

“No.” Starscream waited for him to continue, but Prowl didn't want to. But then he remembered Starscream's happy face when he had found out about the sparkling and reconsidered. “It's not my first.”

“First what?”

“Sparkling.”

That got Starscream's full attention. “You got a sparkling?”

“No.” It was harder than he had thought it would be. He sat down at the edge of the berth and looked down at his pedes. Then back up at Starscream, who was still standing in front of him, nervously waiting for him to continue. “I got sparked at the beginning of the war. It was... I couldn't raise it, so I asked Ratchet to terminate it.”

The more he spoke, the quieter his voice got. By the end he could barely hear himself. He looked at Starscream hopefully, but the Seeker had obviously heard him, for he was watching him with a mix of disbelief and sadness. Prowl prayed there was no anger in those red optics, and miraculously, some deity seemed to answer his plea.

Starscream sat next to him and grabbed his hand.

“You've never regretted it?”

“Never,” Prowl said and realized he really meant it. “The war was getting worse, we didn't know how long it would last. I was young, nowhere near as resourceful as I am now. I would only force that little one into the life of suffering. Who am I to do something like that to another being?”

He felt a squeeze of warm fingers. He didn't expect it to give him comfort, but somehow it did.

“But now it's different?”

“Now I'm no longer afraid,” said Prowl and quickly added, “Now I've got you.”

  
  


8

  
  


“I got you, I got you,” Starscream kept on repeating, like it was a prayer, as he rocked against Prowl. He was embracing the Praxian, his fingers massaging the joints at the base of Prowl's doorwings, making them quiver. Small moans and whimpers kept on escaping Prowl's vocalizer, as Starscream's spike kept on entering his valve, pushing on the walls and filling him completely. It was almost too much – teasing touches to his doorwings, sweet stretch of his valve and the friction of the spike against his nodes. He was wet, so indecently wet, but for once he didn't care, because all he could think about was Starscream's hot plating rubbing against his, denta biting into his neck cables and coolant dripping down his overheated mechanics.

“S-Starscream,” he moaned the name as the Seeker pounded into him with newfound vigour, bordering on desperation. He put his own arms around Starscream's neck and buried his face in the other's plating. At the same time Starscream wriggled his fingers under Prowl's flared out plating and tugged at the sensitive cables. Prowl cried in pleasure.

Overload shook Prowl's whole body – he trembled and his vocalizer glitched, as he released the build-up energy and the lubricant copiously spilled out of his valve, despite the channel clamping down on Starscream's still erected spike.

It didn't stay like that much longer however. Starscream groaned as the sweet pulsing of the walls around his spike forced an overload of his own, one that filled Prowl's valve with even more lubricants and made even bigger mess of the berth they were on. If not for Prowl's carrier protocols on-lining shortly after finding out about the sparkling, Starscream would have to pay for all the spilled lubricants, he was sure.

But with his plating still burning and another body making him feel even warmer, Prowl wasn't in his right processor. Starscream couldn't bring himself to mind.

Otherwise he wouldn't hear the quiet “I need you.” whispered against his plating, as Prowl slipped into recharge.

  
  


9

  
  


When Prowl powered up again, he was covered by blankets and held tightly against Starscream's body, as the Seeker still recharged peacefully. Prowl watched him for some time. He had thought about this many times before, sleeping in one bed, living their lives together. It never appealed to him very much, he valued his independence, and was sure Starscream did, too. But now, as things had changed for him so dramatically, he realized he was partial to the idea of creating something with the cunning Seeker.

The cunning Seeker, who was right now looking at him with his shamelessly red optics.

“Hi,” said Starscream.

Prowl only hummed in reply, but it seemed to suffice.

“We need to start thinking about the little one,” said the Seeker after short silence.

“What do you mean?” Prowl's processor was still sluggish and he wasn't very keen to fully power up just yet.

Starscream could barely contain his excitement. “Well, we should probably move in together, soon, if not immediately. We have to think about our commitments and obligations, I am ruler of Cybertron after all, and you are my adviser. And if we want it or not, we will have to change things, so we'll be able to first and foremost raise our sparkling. Oh and of course we need to think of a name, that's important.”

Prowl sensed a long speech coming his way. He groaned and cuddled closer to the Seeker. “Starscream, there are still long lunar cycles ahead, we can really wait till the next solar cycle with all of that.”

  
  


10

  
  


“Starchaser,” said Prowl the next solar cycle.

“What?” Starscream asked, looking away from the news broadcast on the far wall of the main room in Prowl's quarters. He woke up before Prowl and probably left the berth to catch up on the politics, or at least the official side of it, that he had missed because of all the excitement of the previous solar cycle. Now he seemed to have no idea what Prowl was talking about.

“The name. It's going to be Starchaser.”

Silence followed Prowl's declaration. He nervously waited for the Seeker's reaction. Unnecessarily, he realized, as Starscream just smiled and kissed him.

 


End file.
